Flowers from the garden: January
Driving to the supermarket to do the Big Shop on Sunday I worked out that we spend over £500 a year on flowers for the house. A chilling thought as I love flowers. A house without flowers just doesn’t sing. As I squeezed the car into a tight parking space I hoped that an excuse to continue with this magnificent expense would come to me. It didn’t. As I strolled with my trolley, I’d decided that it might be fun to try and find flowers for the house from the garden. This is the first post in a series of twelve, one each month...
read moreFat and lean gravy boat (the Jack Sprat)
I couldn’t do without our fat and lean gravy boat. It’s cleverly designed so that the lean gravy is drawn from the base of the boat. The fat can easily be poured off from the fat spout. A few weeks ago I was struggling to skim the fat from a stew. There was no time to chill the dish in the fridge overnight and remove the fat easily. In desperation I thought I’d try using this gravy boat. The experiment worked. The gravy boat was immediately promoted from ceremonial mascot – merely gracing the Sunday lunch table, to...
read moreSunday Roast: Emma’s easy roast chicken recipe with automatic garlic sauce (also works well with roast pheasant)
My friend Emma gave me this special roast chicken recipe. Everyone loves it, including her young children and it’s quick and easy to prepare. The chicken sits in the stock as it roasts so it is succulent and full of flavour. The garlic sauce is delicious and doesn’t blow your head off. If you are looking for an easy way to cook pheasant this recipe works very well with game. Ingredients: 1 chicken (approx 1.5 kilos) 1 head of garlic 300-600 ml of hot chicken stock (depending on the size of your casserole. There needs to be enough...
read moreHyacinths in The Waste Land
There’s something very sexy about hyacinths. Their fresh, heady exotic scent draws one way beyond the waxy flower heads and squeak of constraining leaves. Danny buried his nose in a pot of them and glanced up at me, “Mmmmm. Lovely. They smell of spring.” And they do but the scent has a deeper resonance for me. Each year the hyacinth draws me back to T.S. Eliot. When the flowers have finally come into their own and the house is heavy with their sultry perfume, I’m searching for my copy of The Waste Land. Somehow the...
read moreThe lazy man’s secret that adds extra pazazz to any dish
When we go away on holiday we search for two types of shops, hardware shops and food emporiums. The latter can be supermarkets, outdoor markets, greengrocers or delicatessen. If the country is sunnier than England, we are looking for locally produced herbs and spices. Perhaps it is something to do with the sunshine or the processing but these herbs are so much more pungent and last a lot longer than most of the dried herbs available in the UK. Fifteen years ago I went to Crete for a month and found some wonderful blends of local herbs in a...
read moreSnowdrops (Gallanthus)
These are the first snowdrops in our garden. I spotted them near the gate when I was driving out yesterday. As there is so little else in the garden at this time of year, I treasure the snowdrops. When they get into full swing we usually have a few in an eggcup on the kitchen table, ours are all small varieties. Snowdrops are massively popular nowadays. So much so that there is a real danger that all our wild snowdrops are likely to die out. Snowdrop thieves are plundering naturalised sites. This is a real cash crop. A small pot of three...
read moreHaggis for two on Burns night
My paternal grandmother came from the Shetland Isles. This must be why I feel an affinity with Scotland. I’ve only been there once. I was flown to Edinburgh for a posh Christmas works outing about six years ago. It was great pottering in the little shops in the roads that lead up to the castle. The meal was pretty good too, despite the crazy office politics. Danny and I are planning a long trip to Scotland, starting with the sleeper from Kings Cross. Plotting this trip is as enjoyable as the trip will be. It could happen anytime over the...
read moreThe Penultimate Paramour and the fur lined Wellingtons
When my elderly aunt died, I inherited her fur lined Wellington boots. They were too big for me but I thought that they might come in handy one day. They were knocking about in the barn for a year or so before I realised that they might suit John Coe, the slim light framed man who helps me in the garden. They were a perfect fit. He was delighted. The cottage was a weekend retreat for me and The Penultimate Paramour at that time. A tall, large framed man with size 12 feet. He would lie in bed as I enjoyed the crack of dawn coffee and chat with...
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